Kibeth (2011-2026)

Kibeth was diagnosed with a possible bladder infection last week. She was prescribed antibiotics and received an injection of fluids. Be after a day of apparent improvement, her condition noticeably worsened. She refused to eat. She avoided both humans and cats. Her lips and mouth turned pale.

Yesterday, we rushed Kiby to Veterinary Referral Associates, where she was placed in an oxygen tank and the staff began diagnostic work. They found an internal buildup of bloody liquid, heart malformation, unusual masses, and signs of organ failure. The vet was visibly relieved when we said that we didn’t want Kiby to suffer any more.

My daughter FaceTimed in to say goodbye. We held Kiby as she received her final injection.

It wasn’t that long ago that I expected Kiby to live at least another year or two. Cats are good at hiding their discomfort. We were monitoring her kidneys and she was receiving dietary supplements. Her recent bloodwork indicated that they were stable. She also did not have the normal signs of heart failure. We will never have a definitive diagnoses, but it seems likely that cancer was at the root of her medical collapse.

Kibeth was fifteen years old. We adopted Kibeth as a kitten, in the wake of an accident that killed Ifrit‘s brother. These are pictures of her, with Ifrit, from the weeks after we brought her home.

A few years later we adopted Io and Lilith. Lilith glommed onto Ifrit. Io preferred Kiby.

Kiby was, in many ways, my cat. By her own choice. She got upset when I went to the bathroom without her, and would loudly complain at the door. If I still didn’t let her in, she would take her complaints to the management — that is, my wife.

Kiby also liked to “supervise” me while I was working, which often involved sitting directly in front of the monitor or on my keyboard. She also had a particularly annoying approach to getting my attention. She would “pluck” a relevant textile — clothing, a bath towel, a blanket, a sheet — with a single claw.

Kiby would sometimes “settle” for being picked up, but what she really wanted was to be followed around the house. My daughter and I would sometimes consent to go on an “adventure” with Kiby. We would follow her up and down stairs, and from one room to another, until she was satisfied.

We will miss her very much.